


a flash of red

by dreamysuns



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 00s as Assassins, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Banter, Disguise, Drinking, Fist Fights, Implied/Referenced Sex, Late at Night, M/M, Shooting Guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27433081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamysuns/pseuds/dreamysuns
Summary: “I can trust you, right, Renjun?”“Of course, sir.”“Lately, I’ve felt… I don’t know. Like I can’t trust anybody.” He holds Renjun’s eye contact in the mirror, gaze unreadable. “Do you know what I mean?(Or, there is more than one assassin killing tonight.)
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 136
Collections: '00 FIC FEST ROUND TWO





	a flash of red

**Author's Note:**

> 00FF #0030: norenminhyuck as assassins

**UNKNOWN NUMBER** 11:57 PM

Target is the CEO of Surge Systems.

He’s making an appearance tomorrow night at the company’s annual gala dinner.

Kill him in one shot, and I’ll double the price.

 **me** 11:59 PM

Triple the price

 **UNKNOWN NUMBER** 12:00

Done

You in?

 **me** 12:03

Who do you think i am?

Hahahaha

I make kills like that for breakfast

Thank you for considering me for your this job~~

yeah, I’m in.

🥂

**AUGUST 21**. 9:57 PM.

VENUE 1A, SURGE MICROSYSTEMS.

WEATHER: CLEAR.

“Renjun… does this all look okay?”

Mark spreads his arms tentatively, and Renjun laughs at the sight of his boss looking so nerve-wracked over his outfit- a simple black suit, Armani wristwatch, shiny black shoes.

“Looks great,” Renjun says truthfully, sending a final text message before slipping his cell phone back inside his jacket. “Perfect, even. Everyone will be impressed, sir.”

“God, I sure hope so.” Mark twists, eyeing himself in the mirror. They’re stowed in one of the spare rooms above the venue, waiting for their time to descend to the dinner hall to officially greet the guests. “I’m really gonna need this to go well, Renjun. Stocks are dropping. More people have their eye on me. It’s gotta be absolutely... perfect. Perfect.” His eyes darken, meeting Renjun’s briefly in the mirror. There's a flicker of something there- something bright and almost flashy- and it's so fast that Renjun almost misses it. 

“I can trust you... right, Renjun?”

“...Of course, sir.”

“Lately, I’ve felt… I don’t know. Like I can’t trust anybody.” He holds Renjun’s eye contact in the mirror, gaze unreadable. “Do you know what I mean? It’s… rather peculiar.” Mark holds him there, and Renjun stares back, neutral.

“I understand, sir,” Renjun says. “As the business grows… you can’t seem to understand what motives the people around you hold?”

Mark sighs, stepping down from the pedestal in front of the mirror to face Renjun properly. “I... knew you’d understand, Renjun.” He grips Renjun on the shoulder, giving him a warm smile, but the gaze in his eye is dark and unreadable. “I’m so glad I have someone on you I can rely on.”

"Yes, sir.”

Mark's cell phone pings, and Mark releases Renjun for the briefest of moments to check it.

"Seems it's about time."

"Shall we head down and greet the guests, sir?"

Mark just slips his phone back into his pocket, giving Renjun a tight-lipped smile. "Lead the way."

🥂

"Mr. Lee! Is it true that you're having an affair? Does your wife know?"

"Mr Lee, can you comment on the rumors regarding employee treatment at Surge Systems?"

"Mr. Lee, Daily Journal. Our sources have claims stating that two nights ago, you were seen in an alleyway at-"

"Mr. Lee, Surge System’s stocks are plummeting as well as Fluxworks while your competitor, Viswell, still seems to be-"

Renjun pushes the reporters back, one hand raised to protect Mark's eyes from the flash of the cameras and another arm shielded across Mark's chest as they push forward. "He's not taking any questions," he says loudly, and the crowd parts.

They make it down into the venue like that, the atmosphere changing drastically with it. Now, the only crowd here are those who have come by Mark's personal invite or are allies to the company. Tables with pretty red trim are spread throughout the hall with a bar at the perimeter, and finely dressed guests are enjoying all of the event's displays and cuisine.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Just fine," Mark responds, straightening his tie. "Ergh, I expected nothing less from the press." Something red flashes across his eyes when they dart away, but this time, Renjun doesn't miss it. He can't quite place exactly what it is. Could it be fear? "There's... so much been happening lately..." He's hesitant, staring at his shoes, before he shakes it off a moment later with a jerk of his head. "Christ... Ah, come, Renjun, let's wind down before the opening speech."

He raises his hand and a waiter rushes towards them immediately, a silver tray of food held aloft in his hand. "Y-yes, sir?"

"A drink, please. Surprise me. Oh, and one for my good friend here."

"Please do disregard him. I'm his humble employee," Renjun says curtly.

"My _favorite_ personal bodyguard," Mark corrects. "Two drinks, please."

"Oh, sir... I'm afraid I'm only serving the concessions for this evening. You'll have to get your drinks from the bar."

"You can't even make an exception for me, CEO?" Mark jokes, but the waiter pales, and Renjun steps in with a roll of his eyes.

"Thank you. We'll go to the bar now."

"Renjun... you are far too serious," Mark laughs as the waiter hurries away.

"Maybe so, sir, but that's my job."

"What, keeping me in line?"

"That is part of protecting you and your safety, sir."

Mark ponders this, then gives an affirming nod, a small yet unreadable smile on his face. "Well put."

Mark greets and makes brief small talk with a few other guests as they make their way towards the bar. Renjun stands silently by his side, always watching for anything out of the ordinary, before it flings itself at Mark in a flurry of pink.

_"Oh, Mark!"_

There's a person that's just toppled onto Mark's chest, arms thrown wildly around his neck as they cling, nearly bringing Mark to the floor. "Oh, _Mark_ , I thought I'd never see you again-"

Renjun grabs the person by their shoulders and flings them to the ground immediately, hand flying to his inner jacket pocket where his handgun is, but Mark is quick to stop him. "Woah, woah, everybody slow down!"

They're causing a bit of a commotion. A few of the guests have stopped their conversation to watch their little scene, and Mark laughs, waving them away. "Please, just a little accident."

The person on the floor groans, turning over. "My goodness, I think you bruised my tailbone." The odd splash of pink from before is suddenly made sensical when Renjun realizes the person is wearing a pinkish velvet outfit, neatly buttoned over a black collared shirt and tie. Things make less sense when Renjun looks at their face, Jeno's black eyes meeting with his own, and in a millisecond, they both understand.

"I'm so sorry, Renjun," Mark is laughing, pulling Jeno to his feet. His black hair, gelled so prettily before, has become rumpled and Mark hastily tries to flatten it out. "And my sincerest apologies to you too, Jeno. Ah, Jeno, this is my personal bodyguard and close associate, Renjun. Renjun- please meet Jeno Lee, my dearest... friend."

"I see. Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. I'm sorry about the misunderstanding," Renjun says with a curt nod and bow, stepping back. Jeno blinks back.

"No, no, of course," he says finally, smiling back, friendly. "I didn't take into account Mark's personal security when greeting him, how... silly of me."

"Well... now you may greet me," Mark says lowly, a hint of something dark in his voice, and Jeno giggles, stepping closer.

"Well, maybe I shall..."

Renjun looks away, doing his job as he stands in front of two with his arms crossed as they exchange hurried little whispers and naughty giggles. When he turns back, Jeno's tie is slightly askew and there's a smudge os something on Mark's neck, just under his ear. Renjun pretends to miss it.

"...be seeing you later then?"

"Yes, yes. Later, upstairs..." Mark sees Renjun looking and just gives him a knowing smile. "Jeno- Jeno, please, darling, I'll see you later."

"Alrighty, then." Jeno gives a playful wink. "Later it is. I'll be at my table, over there, should you... need me again."

He saunters off, hips swaying. His velvet suit jacket is tight around his waist. Mark is staring after him, entranced. "Fuck... that man will ruin my life."

"A new flame?"

Mark seems to remember where he is and snaps out of it. "Oh, er- yes, something like that. I can count on you to keep it all confidential?"

"You don't even need to ask, sir."

"I know. It's just nice to know I can rely on you, Renjun. God, it's been how long and I'm not tipsy? Bar. Bar, bar. Come on, let's hop to it."

There's a glitter of pink velvet that catches the corner of Renjun's eye, hovering by the washroom. "Why don't you get started without me?" Renjun suggests. "I have to make a quick trip to the restroom."

Mark waves his hand. "Please do. Return quickly."

There's adrenaline pumping in Renjun's head as he turns around and strides quickly towards the bathroom. From anger, or excitement, he doesn't know. All he knows that-

He grabs Jeno swiftly by the wrist as he passes and pulls him so quickly into the bathroom that only the wittiest of glances could have caught it. Immediately, he slams him against the wall, one arm across his chest to press him into the tile.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Renjun asks furiously. "Are you fucking serious, Jeno?"

"I should be the one asking you that!" Jeno hisses back. When Renjun presses against his chest, his collar tugs down to reveal a hickey on his neck that only pisses him off more, really. "How fucking obsessed with me are you?"

"Obsessed with-" Renjun barks out a laugh. "Please. Look, just tell me this. You're here to kill Mark Lee, aren't you?"

"Duh." Jeno glares back. His dark eyes still, of course, manage to look gorgeous even as they shoot daggers into Renjun's skull. "And you're here to fuck things up. As always, with Renjun fucking Huang. Ha. This is _my_ kill. Back off!"

"I'm not here to fuck things up, Jen," Renjun says calmly, and immediately wants to bite his tongue off for letting the petname slip out. "Let's work this out together, alright? When did you pick up this job?"

Jeno regards him for a moment before letting out a sigh, blowing the bangs out of his eyes. "Just a few months ago. I jerked him off at a bar in Tokyo. He thinks I'm from there, actually. I've had him paying for my 'flights' and 'travel expenses' for a bit of pocket money. Met up a little in Brooklyn, but I kept my distance and now he's desperate. I was going to finish it off today."

"How? Later tonight, is that what earlier was all about?"

"No no, baby. He invited me." It's Jeno's familiar catlike smirk, eyes creasing cutely. "I do my usual- lure him upstairs, wear something pretty..."

Renjun knows his usual. He's worried about something else.

"Are you armed?"

"Just with my butterfly. Shouldn't be too hard when he's nude and in afterglow."

There it is. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"No. You're not having sex with him."

Jeno laughs, cold. "Why do you care? You made it clear that you don't care about me the last time we-"

"No, Jeno. It's the opposite. Of course I fucking care about you, are you out of your mind? Why? Why did you take this job?"

"Because I liked the pay!" Jeno snaps. Renjun presses him harder, Jeno yelping in pain.

"Don't lie to me-"

"I-I told you, it's because I like the pay!" Jeno cries, thrashing a little, and Renjun feels guilty, backing off slightly.

"You like the pay?" Renjun's voice is quiet. "Or... does Doyoung like the pay?"

Jeno's silent, ooking away to some other corner of the restroom. Renjun sighs, changing the subject.

"Then... who's your client?"

"...The wife, of course. Mark Lee has had millions of lovers after his wife and before me. She wants me to give him one last fuck before he gets his throat slit. It was quite an odd request but Doyoung was able to jack up the price for it, so here we are."

Renjun exhales slowly. He'd expected nothing less.

"...What?" Jeno snorts out a watery little laugh. "Feeling sorry for me? I- I don't mind the sex. I mean... I was able to get some money out of him in Japan, and- and Doyoung says he'll really compensate me well after. He promised."

"Jeno..." Renjun pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "You need to stop working for Doyoung. You fucking have to. I'm serious."

And now Jeno’s glaring at him, fire back in his eyes. “See, this is why we’re never gonna work out, Jun! You don’t fucking think I can do anything!”

“This isn’t a matter of what I think of your ability!” And it’s like they’ve never even broken up. The fiery words ease themselves naturally onto Renjun’s tongue like muscle memory. “It’s because I know that you can do so much more than- than use your body like this that I want you to stop taking these kinds of jobs!”

“You’re on crack,” Jeno snaps back. “Why do you care so much about what I do with my body? I told you, I don’t mind the sex. It’s usually the target that I’m lying with, so I get to kill them anyway. Like I said, Doyoung will compensate me! He really wanted me to take this job. Don’t you know how many people want Mark Lee dead?”

Renjun sighs. “Yeah, why the hell do you think I’m here?”

Jeno narrows his eyes. “...That’s right. I never even got to ask you about your job. Who’s _your_ client?”

“The CEO of Viswell. I was conning this for nine months, actually. I gained Mark's trust as his bodyguard for so long, just so I can frame Fluxworks for murdering him- by Viswell's request.”

Jeno’s mouth is in the shape of a cute little O. “Ah, I see. They're the three biggest companies in the industry, right? And if Mark Lee and Surge Systems go down, it'll work out perfectly for Viswell. All they need to do is get Fluxworks out of the picture by framing them, and all the competition is gone. And they’ve had you on the inside for a while too...”

“It’s a dirty game, business. Not my problem, though. I’m just here to kill.”

Jeno looks hesitant. “Wait… have you really been conning this for nine months?”

“Yep. Viswell is paying me incredibly well. You can probably imagine. When they get stressed out over the stocks, it’s so easy to manipulate them into an extra half a million. Sometimes two.”

"Nine months... and I've only been on my job for three." Jeno suddenly looks worried. "I feel bad."

"No, don't. We didn't know." Renjun sighs, massaging his temples. "This... complicates things."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I ruin some master plan of yours?"

"In a way," Renjun says curtly. He finally releases Jeno, who sighs, immediately turning to the mirror to straighten himself out.

"You know, I'm sure we can work something out so that we both satisfy our clients." Jeno's pulled a makeup brush out of seemingly nowhere. One of his many talents is appearing to carry nothing while actually carrying everything. Renjun remembers that Jeno once told him the ability is especially handy on jobs where he's wearing something revealing and has little space to hide weapons, and then gets annoyed at himself for the memory. In real time, Jeno dabs at some smudged eyeshadow. "Maybe we can rendezvous later tonight, and work something out for the benefit of us both as well as the satisfaction of our clients.”

"Well, maybe I don't want you to satisfy your client."

Jeno pauses. "Excuse me?"

"I don't want you to have sex with Mark Lee."

Jeno snorts, resuming his touching-up. "Baby, we're much past the point of jealousy, don't you think? I broke up with you years ago."

"Year," Renjun corrects. "And I'm not jealous." He himself doesn't know if that's a lie or not. "I don't want you to have sex with Mark Lee, or anyone else for that matter, during work."

"Well, that's too bad, isn't it? It's work. You don't have a say, and neither do I, really. It can't be helped."

"Yes, it can." Renjun grabs him by the wrist and turns him around so that they're facing each other. "Stop working for Doyoung. Run with me instead, Jeno."

Jeno blinks, makeup brush still held aloft in his had, palette in the other. "You're out of your mind, Renjun Huang."

"I never doubted your abilities. Not even for a second. You were one of the most talented assassins I had ever had the pleasure to work with. And it's because of that you need to quit working for Doyoung. You have to."

Jeno's cheeks flush, but he still looks furious. "I'm not quitting! We've been over this, you fucking idiot. If Doyoung thinks that I can take on a job like this, then I'll carry it out to the best of my abilities! I don't care if I have to have sex with some corporate rat, for fuck's sake. I'm a _professional_."

"You do care," Renjun says quietly. "I know you do. Why are you letting Doyoung treat you like this?"

"Treat- treat me like what?"

"You're a very talented assassin. You're classically trained with over 200 weapons. You have a natural charm that makes it easy for people to become entranced by you. And as you just said, you're a professional."

"So?"

"So why is it that it's your body on the line for all of your jobs?"

"Because- sometimes that's what has to be done!"

"Not all the time. Jeno, I'm sorry. But you're incredible and Doyoung treats you like dogshit. I can't believe that even after a year you're still taking jobs like this."

Jeno says nothing.

Renjun sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "I- I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s sweet that you still look out for me like this, I guess.” Jeno’s voice is quiet. “And… maybe you’re right. That I care.”

Jeno reaches out to fix Renjun’s tie. Renjun stares down at his pretty, slim fingers as they tangle momentarily in the black of the knot. He’s still wearing that ring that Renjun gave him, for their six month anniversary. The diamond is genuine and sharp only at a certain angle. Renjun told him that the jewel matched the sparkle in Jeno’s eye, but Jeno was clever enough to figure out the truth, anyway. Maybe that was why Jeno was still wearing it. For self defense.

“I’m going to take Mark upstairs, later. There’s a suite. You came down from there, right?”

“Done your research.”

“I don’t cut corners. Do me a favor and leave the emergency door open. There’s one down the same hallway.”

Renjun hadn’t even noticed it. “Right.” He hesitates, then looks back up at Jeno, who’s still pretending to fix his tie. “So you’ll still be taking Mark… to the bedroom, then.”

Jeno sighs. “Yes, Jun. I am. What are you going to do about it?” His eyes shut. “I’m sorry too. This should be a happy reunion. I actually am glad to see you again, and I’m glad to see that you’re doing well and taking jobs.”

 _I’m not happy to see you again. Not like this,_ a voice in Renjun’s head retaliates, but he bites his tongue.

“Look, it’ll all work out in the end, okay? I’ll- I’ll try to meet up with you before I kill him.”

And then Jeno’s leaning closer, a hand gentle on Renjun’s waist. Renjun’s breath hitches when he realizes what he’s going to do as Jeno’s lips ghost over his own, plump and red-

“Makeup,” Renjun manages, breath fanning against Jeno’s slightly parted mouth. He swallows, staring at the ceiling. “M-makeup, Jen.”

“...Mmm,” Jeno exhales with a small laugh, backing down. Renjun releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Sorry. Forgot I can’t leave marks on you… anymore.”

“I’m sorry too,” Renjun repeats. He doesn’t say what for.

Jeno lets go of Renjun’s waist. “...I’ll see you upstairs, Jun.”

When Jeno’s back straightens and he pushes back out of the restroom, a confident smile on his face, Renjun groans, letting his forehead drop against the tiled bathroom wall.

🥂

“There you are,” Mark says when Renjun finally appears by his side, this time at the bar. His cheeks are slightly flushed, which explains the huge grin he gives Renjun as he claps him on the shoulder. Some of his colleagues behind him are enjoying themselves just as well, laughing loudly and indulging themselves with the bar. “Have a drink, have a drink, please. I’m up in only five minutes, and if I don’t see that you’re enjoying yourself at least a little, I’m firing you.”

“I’m on the clock, sir,” Renjun reminds him dutifully, but he’s pleased that Mark trusts him and sees him as a friend. But he also didn’t expect any less. Mark’s complete trust is his.

Mark waves a hand. “There are so many guards here I could replace you in an instant. Maybe it would take three or four men to match you, but- all the same. Drink, Renjun. I insist. Tonight is a celebration of the company’s success, so celebrate.”

“Sir…” Renjun says, sprinkling a hint of reluctancy in his voice, but he knows Mark will still push him. He can see it in his eyes. There’s a spark of red there, suddenly, and Renjun watches as it flashes and disappears. Again, he makes a note of it for later. “Sir, I’m not sure…”

“ _I insist._ Bartender, please! Something for my friend here to loosen up tonight.”

The bartender, all the way at the end, tosses a towel over his shoulder as he comes down to meet them. “What can I do for you?”

Renjun assesses him quickly. Dark haired, handsome, fair skinned, strong, square jaw. A pleasant voice, easy on the ears, almost melodic. That about completes his assessment. He’s an ordinary bartender. “I’ll get whatever you’d recommend tonight, please. Perhaps nothing too hard.”

Mark groans. “God, please. Bartender, as the CEO of Surge Systems I hereby request that you serve whatever you see fit.”

The bartender laughs, a pretty, tinkling sound. “Alrighty, sir. Well, in that case, why don’t you pick from a couple of my favorites?”

“Sure,” Renjun says, eager to get the deed over with and satisfy Mark. He knows he can handle alcohol- and besides that, it’s only a simple sleight of hand and maybe a brief distraction that will provide the perfect opportunity so slip the drink into the nearest potted plant. “What are your favorites?”

The bartender winks, already pulling ingredients and cups out from the bar, so quickly Renjun can only guess he’s a near professional in his line of work. “Well, you see, I do enjoy a variety of different drinks. Maybe it’s because the job requires it. Either way, I know I can make you something you’re happy with tonight, okay?”

Mark raises his glass. “Cheers to that.”

“You like vodka?” Renjun can barely count the ingredients and cups before a cocktail glass is suddenly placed before him, complete with a slice of lime. “Kamikaze, straight-up.”

“Nicely done,” he says honestly. He doesn’t touch the drink.

“Of course.” The bartender raises an eyebrow, playful. “Not a vodka fan?”

“Well…”

“No problem. How about…” Again his hands are moving, liquids being poured and mixed all at once before a pretty orange glass is placed before the previous one. “Tequila,” the bartender says.

“Wow.”

“ _Irish cactus._ Quite creamy. Cold. But maybe that’s too sweet for you.” His hands are moving again, at a velocity that’s so fast yet skilled it’s mesmerizing. “Maybe you’re indecisive. Maybe you don’t know how to choose.” A measuring cup twirls between his fingers. “Between this and that.” The ice cubes clink together in the glass. “You don’t like all the thinking.” The slosh of the liquid between cups. “It’s annoying.”

Now Mark’s paying attention too, even with his red cheeks, along with some curious colleagues. “Maybe you can’t settle,” the bartender continues. Even his voice is hypnotizing- it’s enchanting to the point where his arms, moving this way and that as they mix the drinks, seem to be a blur. “Maybe you can’t settle, because you’re always moving around. Trying new drinks. Maybe it’s confusing, but it makes you feel at peace. Maybe it’s lonely, but it’s the only way you can be satisfied.”

 _Is he still talking about drinks?_ Renjun thinks hazily.

“And... well, if that sounds happens to be the case for you, sir… I can make you the perfect drink.”

And a moment later, it’s two highball glasses being placed down next to the other drinks, filled with ice. “Vodka. Tequila. White rum. Gin.” The ingredients are named one after the other as the drinks are poured evenly into both glasses, the ice clinking their way to the top as the liquor fills in. “All perfectly balanced. No flavor overpowers the other. For someone like you, sir, perhaps it’s a Long Island iced tea to quench your thirst.”

His head tilts as he stares at the glasses. “We’re missing something, aren’t we?”

He ducks under the table, and not a second later reappears with a hand cupping two lemon slices, both of which are promptly tossed into the air. “Cheers.”

The lemon slices splash right into both glasses. The bar bursts into applause, Mark included, who looks awestruck at the display. Renjun stares at the four drinks, the three on the table and the one in the bartender’s hand.

The bartender winks. It clicks.

Before Renjun can act, the lights in the venue begin to dim, and Mark swears loudly, spilling a bit of his drink onto the bar. “Ah, shit, that’s my cue. Renjun-”

“I’ve got the mess, sir. Hurry to the stage.”

Mark shoots him a grateful look. “I can always count on you.”

A moment later the spotlight is on Mark, who looks suddenly composed and brilliant up on the stage, adjusting the mic on the podium, as the party goers greet him with applause. The remainder of the people by the bar move closer for a better view, but Renjun stays back.

He watches the crowd, leaning against the bar. The bartender whistles softly as he wipes down the counter.

“Well, that was quite the show.”

“Thank you.”

“So… how is Johnny doing these days?”

The wiping stops. Renjun turns around to face the bartender properly. “Kamikaze. Irish cactus. Long Island iced tea. Two of them. Those are the first drinks that Johnny Suh teaches to his students.”

“Who’s Johnny Suh?” the bartender asks innocently.

“He’s an assassin. More specifically, he teaches it, and I recognize his hand, even in his pupils. There’s a certain technique to it. I can see it in the way you hold yourself, too. So give it up.”

The bartender turns away, choosing to wipe down the glasses behind him instead. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, sir.”

Renjun sighs, leaning forward. “Listen to me, man. I don’t have any ulterior-”

And as quick as a flash, the bartender is whirling around, something sharp and shiny in his hand, but Renjun sees it first-

“ _Ow!”_ a familiar voice yelps, and when Renjun looks down, he sees that he’s pinned the bartender’s wrist to the counter, a silvery butter knife loose in his fist. “ _Ow,_ that fucking hurt, Renjun, you mother-fucker!”

Renjun just stares at the bartender, unsure if his ears are deceiving him. “D-Donghyuck?”

In his shock, he loosens his grip, and the bartender yanks his hand back, glaring. “Yes you fool, it is I, Donghyuck Lee, assassin supreme. You fucking jackass.”

Renjun blinks, but now that the bartender is in the light, he can finally see it: the wrinkles in the whitish mask where it is stretched and gaunt, obvious signs of fraud, and the patchy detail in the false hairline of the wig.

But there’s no mistaking the certain heat in those eyes. Now his jaw drops open. “Donghyuck!”

His friend smirks back. “Oy.”

Renjun nearly leaps across the bar to hug him before Donghyuck shoves him away with a groan, reminding him of their environment. “You absolute moron-”

“What are you _doing_ here?” Renjun asks breathlessly, unable to hide the giddiness in his face. “I- I haven’t seen you since- what, the Ibiza job?”

“Bangkok,” Donghyuck corrects.

“Ah, that’s right, how did I forget? Christ. What are you doing here?”

“Bartending,” Donghyuck says in that false deep voice of his, and for a moment Renjun forgets that it’s his friend he’s speaking with. “I’m on a job, fool,” he says in his normal, familiar voice, with a trademark eye-roll. “How about yourself? You finally wash up? Working for Surge now?”

“Of course not. I’m on a job, too.”

They stare at each other, curious, before they both realize at the same time.

“Oh _no,”_ Renjun says, stricken. “Not you too. No, no no. This is bad, Donghyuck. This is so bad.”

“Don’t tell me..." Donghyuck starts, curious, "you’re here to kill Mark Lee too?”

“Yes, and I’ve been conning for nine months,” Renjun mutters, finally collapsing into one of the barstools, raking a hand through his hair. “Nine.”

“ _Nine?_ Hell, I got hired last month. Johnny told me there was this crazy scandal at Surge Systems-”

“Right, with Viswell and Fluxworks stocks-”

“No. The fuck?”

Renjun frowns. “Oh. Then is it the one about Mark Lee’s affair with his wife?”

Donghyuck’s eyes widen. “He’s having an _affair_?” It’s always odd to look him in the eye when he’s wearing a mask. The face may not be his, but his eyes will always tell. Donghyuck shows all of his emotions in his eyes. “This company is so fucked. But what company isn’t, really? No, that’s not the affair I was referring to. John said there was rumors about employee treatment. We’re talking verbal abuse, blackmail, the works. You know about it?”

“No,” Renjun says truthfully. “I’m just his bodyguard, I’ve kept many of his secrets but I’m never invited to meetings, so I suppose it’s appropriate that I wouldn’t know. But it sounds like Mark.”

“Figures. Well, an employee of his is ready to take their revenge, maybe steal the CEO’s chair. They want me to snag some important possessions of Mark’s, then kill him, of course. And they need it to be an _accident._ ” Donghyuck winks. “Aren’t I perfect?”

Renjun shuts his eyes. “An accident… an accident. Okay. I- we can work with that.”

Donghyuck’s eyes widen. “Oops. Does that not work with your client?”

“Not- exactly. Listen, Donghyuck. Tonight just got another level of complicated, alright? When are you going to execute your plan? Maybe this can still work.”

Donghyuck hesitates. “Ten minutes ago.”

Renjun whirls around, but Mark is still on stage seemingly as normal as ever, pointing at the projector’s display on the wall behind him as he presents, mic clutched in his hand and the same cool, stoic expression as always. There’s a brief flash of red in his eyes again, darts between his eyes. It disappears. Good.

“What did you do?”

“It was in his drink. My original concoction. For the first ten minutes, it does nothing. And then… you feel faint. It’s enough for you to call out for help, but not to recall what you ate. And then you’re out like a light for three hours. Not dead,” He adds on quickly. “Knocked out. Enough time to tamper with evidence, see?”

An original concoction of Donghyuck’s… besides being able to act as a nearly perfect professional bartender, Donghyuck’s chemistry is not to be fooled with. If Donghyuck is certain of concoction’s effectivity, then there is no room for doubt. It’s this ability combined with Donghyuck’s enchanting gaze that makes a killer combo, in the literal sense. Once you’ve been entranced enough to drink what he’s given you, it’s over. Once you’ve been entranced to do as he says, it’s over. There’s warmth in Donghyuck’s eyes, but it can quickly turn to a poisonous fire.

“When will Mark knock out?”

Donghyuck checks his wristwatch, then looks back up at Renjun. “In three minutes. Ah, damn, you’ve made me lose track of the time. We need to be backstage to catch him when he falls.”

“ _I_ made you lose track of the time? _You’re_ the one who _-”_

“Enough chitchat, Renjun. Hurry, come with me. Now!”

Donghyuck’s ducked out from behind the bar, striding quickly towards the double doors of the kitchen across the hall. Renjun follows, keeping up their casual air best he can, even though the rest of their potential witnesses are occupied with Mark’s presentation.

“You’ve memorized the layout?”

“Through the kitchen, down the hall. To the right, locked doors. I have access. Then it’s backstage. We can make it.”

“There’s actually something I should tell you about this job, Renjun.” Donghyuck casually scoops up a butter knife from one of the tables as he passes, then begins to cut at the edge of his mask as they walk, like he’s simply combing his hair or scratching his ear or something normal, for god’s sake. By the time they reach the kitchen, his mask is halfway peeled off.

“It’s a bit serious,” Donghyuck admits, and now Renjun can see his real mouth moving from under the fake skin dangling above it- the rest is still attached to his upper face. “Just a little. Perhaps I’m asking you for advice, I dunno.”

He yanks at the remainder of his disguise, the skin ripping away, just as they push through the double doors. Five security guards stare back at them.

Donghyuck laughs, tossing his mask to the ground. One of the security guards mumbles something into his walkie-talkie, but both assassins know it’ll be too late by then.

“Well, well, well.... It’s Ibiza all over again.”

“I quite liked Ibiza.” Renjun pulls up the sleeves of his jacket. One of the guards order them to give their names, but their voices sound like muffled background. “The weather was always so clear. You were saying? About this job?”

One of the security guards lunges for Donghyuck, who sidesteps with a sigh. “Just- Johnny assigned it to me, right?” He twists the guard’s arm behind his back and pushes him up against the wall, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. Renjun can see he’s lightened his hair, his locks now a pleasant shade of light brown, and that he’s grown it out in the back. He thinks he looks quite handsome with this style. Makes him look older.

“Right,” Renjun agrees, ducking under the swing of the other guard and sending his elbow into his side. The guard yells, choking, and Renjun quickly takes the opportunity to sweep his legs out and take him to the ground. “Did you not want to take this job?”

“No, no! Nothing like that. I was so-” Donghyuck grunts as he knees his next attacker in the groin, following it with a firm kick that sends him flying against several hanging iron pans, clanging loudly before falling on top of his body. “I was actually _so_ excited. I love bartending jobs. Free drinks. But then Johnny reminded me that I turn twenty-two next week.”

Renjun’s managed get behind the broad back of one of the remaining guards, knocking out his airflow with a tight arm around his neck. “And then?” he grunts.

“And then- well, that’s it, isn’t?” Donghyuck’s swiped a taser from somewhere and simply tases away the last of the security, who lets out a yelp before falling lifelessly to the floor. Donghyuck inspects the taser before pocketing it without a second thought. “My contract… well, all rookie contracts with Johnny expire when they turn twenty-two.”

Renjun finally releases the guard he still has in a chokehold, who collapses, face blue. “Expire? Like- you can’t work for Johnny anymore?”

“Well- you can! If you renew your contract. But…” Donghyuck bites his lip. “If I choose to renew, then I’m in it for life. I… how am I supposed to make that kind of commitment? That’s- that’s like marriage! I’m fucking _twenty-two years old_ , for chrissake! I don’t want to get fucking married to John!”

His voice echoes in the empty kitchen. Renjun looks down, and realizes all the bodies are piled lifelessly around their feet. “Let’s keep going, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck groans. “See, now I’m fucking- ugh. I’m losing my mind. Am I even a good assassin?”

“ _What?_ You’re Donghyuck Lee, killing supreme!” Renjun tries. It’s times like this that he’s reminded that Donghyuck is actually quite younger than he is- just by a year and some. Donghyuck just glares at him. “That sounds awful coming out of your mouth, Renjun.”

“You know what I mean. Come on. There are hardly any assassins as young as you doing what you’re doing. I’ve known you for how long? I’m sure Johnny will back me up on this. You’re an assassination _prodigy,_ Donghyuck.”

“I _know._ Oh, he started killing when he was fifteen, he can make bombs out nothing but scraps and a box of Mike-and-Ikes, his voice has the most versatile range of- _I know,_ okay? I’ve heard it all. And I do love killing. I love my job. And I have no doubt that I want to continue it. Just… committing to John for the rest of my life sounds terrifying.”

They’ve made it down the back hallway. Renjun swipes his card and the locked doors open for them. They hurry through, Donghyuck shedding his bartender attire as they go, and by the time they come up on the backstage doors, he’s in a much more Donghyuck outfit- an orange acid washed shirt unbuttoned over a ripped up print shirt and similarly destroyed skinny jeans.

“I like the way you’ve started doing your hair, by the way,” Renjun says, without thinking.

Donghyuck blinks. “Thanks. I like the way you… kill people.”

“I like the way you kill people too. Honestly, Donghyuck, if you don’t want to commit to working for Johnny for the rest of your life, but you still like killing- work for yourself. Freelance. Plenty of people would still hire you.”

“Freelance? Like you?”

“...Yeah,” Renjun says finally. “Guess so.”

Donghyuck pauses. “Doesn’t it get lonely after a while?”

“Well... you could always... with me.... isn’t that what you meant, earlier? With those drinks?” When Donghyuck looks lost, Renjun shakes his head, a little embarrassed. “Er- nevermind. Forget about it. We can talk later. Let’s- let’s find Mark Lee first.”

When they finally come upon the backstage area, the lights are on, and Mark is nowhere to be seen.

Renjun feels his heartbeat quicken when he realizes that he can’t find the dark-haired man right away. He taps the shoulder of the nearest crewmate. “Excuse me, do you know where CEO Lee is?”

The crewmate looks worried. “The CEO said he was feeling faint, and a friend of his took him upstairs for a small break. He should be back any moment now.”

“Was that friend wearing a velvet suit jacket? Quite beau- good-looking in the face?”

The crewmate ponders. “Sure, I’d say so, sir.”

“Thanks.”

Renjun turns back to an equally concerned looking Donghyuck. “Well, what’s the verdict? Where the fuck did he go?”

“There’s… something I needed to tell you about this job too,” Renjun sighs, massaging his temple. “We’re not the only ones killing Mark Lee tonight. Jeno is here.”

“Jeno?” Donghyuck’s eyes widen. “The Prince.”

“He hates being called that,” Renjun mumbles, rubbing his eyes. “Just- Jeno.”

“But- but he’s the _Prince!”_ Donghyuck squeaks, following Renjun as they speedwalk towards the staircase and the upstairs suites. Renjun glances quickly at the exit door they pass to make sure it's unlocked, then immediately berates himself for it. “He fucking- he works for the fucking _Kingdom!_ They’re the greatest assassins in the world! Doyoung Lee, the King! He's a legend!”

“Now that’s a bit of an exaggeration. More like the biggest garbage dump in the world.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Give me Mark’s wallet.”

Donghyuck stares. “Mark’s wallet?” He laughs. “Now why- why would I have that?”

“Your client needed something from Mark,” Renjun deadpans. “He carries the master keycard to all of Surge Systems in his wallet. It makes sense that his wallet was the item your client needs, so give it. I need it to enter the suites.”

Donghyuck sighs. “Fine.” He pulls it out of his jeans pocket and reluctantly hands it over. “How did you even know I swiped it?”

“You swiped it when you ducked under the table to get the limes for your cute bar trick.” The door flashes green and Renjun steps aside to let Donghyuck duck through first, then follows."That's when I realized you weren't a regular bartender."

“You’re as sharp as ever, I guess,” Donghyuck muses when Renjun gives him back Mark’s wallet. “So which room will it be, then?”

Renjun scans the suite numbers before finding the appropriate one. “Here, this one.” This time, he fishes for his own keycard in his pocket, and the door swings open.

“Mark?” He calls out into the darkness. “Are you alright, sir?”

There’s silence. Renjun signals for Donghyuck to stay back, and he nods, pressing himself against the wall. Renjun creeps through the dark suite, hand careful against his breast pocket where his handgun is.

“Mark…?”

“Don’t move.”

The lights flick on. Renjun turns around, and his throat closes up at the sight. Jeno’s sitting on the bed, in nothing but a sheer red robe. His lipstick is smeared and his eyes are filled with tears, and he’s pointing what Renjun recognizes as Mark’s revolver right as his face. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot you,” Jeno threatens, voice wobbling. “ _Don’t move!”_

Renjun raises his hands in the air. “Jeno…”

“ _Don’t fucking speak, Renjun Huang!”_ Jeno screams, clutching the revolver even tighter, and Renjun flinches.

“Calm down, calm down,” Renjun says soothingly, arms still raised in surrender. Jeno hiccups, still pointing the barrel at his face. “Jen- I’m not here to mess up your job.”

“Oh _really?”_ he cries, the revolver clicking, and Renjun exhales, shutting his eyes. “Then why _are_ you here? Tell me! Tell me now!”

“HEY! What’s going on in there?” Now it’s Donghyuck’s voice, worried. “I smell gunpowder.” Damn his senses. “I’m gonna come in and shoot somebody if no one fucking answers me.”

Jeno swivels back to Renjun. “Who the _fuck_ is that. Who did you bring?”

Renjun sighs. “Haechan.”

Now Jeno drops his weapon. “Haechan? Johnny Suh’s Haechan? Master of disguise Haechan?”

Renjun can’t help the mortified look that spreads on his face. “Do you know him?”

It’s then that Donghyuck comes into the room, a cool and composed look on his face even as he points a handgun in the corners of the room before training it on Jeno. “Ah, you must be the Prince.”

Jeno stiffens. “Just Jeno is alright.”

“Sure thing, _just Jeno,”_ Donghyuck drawls. “You pointed your gun at one of my favorite people and friend, so I’m going to have to point my gun at you. But no hard feelings, see? You’re so much more gorgeous in real life, by the way. I’m quite the fan of your work.” He winks.

And to Renjun’s absolute horror, Jeno blushes. “I was really impressed with your work in Paris as well, Haechan. Is it- okay if I call you Haechan?”

Donghyuck grins. “That’s perfectly fine. Has anybody ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?”

“No,” Jeno says, staring right at Renjun, cold. Renjun wants to rip his hair out. “For God’s sake- if you two are going to be like this, might as well call a damn truce. Weapons away, both of you. Jeno, tell us where our target is before I lose my mind.”

Jeno shoves the shoulder of his sheer robe up on his shoulder where it had been slipping. “Floor,” he mumbles.

Donghyuck frowns. “Wait, what?”

And surely enough, when the other two peer around the bed, there is Mark Lee, sleeping soundly on the floor, fully clothed and fast asleep. Donghyuck drops his gun. “Holy cow, my drink worked. No, of course it did. You haven’t killed him yet, Just Jeno?”

Jeno blushes yet again at the nickname. “No… not yet.” And then he turns to Renjun, glaring. “But I was _about_ to!”

But Renjun’s busy piecing it all together. “You weren’t going to kill him,” he realizes, turning to Jeno. “He’s fully clothed, and unconscious. You couldn’t even have sex with him.”

“I was going to wake him up,” Jeno says ruefully.

“Then why are you on the bed crying?”

“Because- because _fuck_ you, Renjun Huang!”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Donghyuck interrupts, hand in the air, “but if you two want to settle your little dispute, I’ll kill Mark Lee in the meantime.”

“We’re not having a dispute!” Renjun and Jeno snap in unison, and Donghyuck’s grin just widens.

“Then… what’s the deal? We all need to kill him, right? Renjun, you need to frame Fluxworks. I need to take home his keycard. Jeno needs to have some hot steamy sex before slitting his throat- is that right? I just guessed based on your portfolio,” he adds to Jeno, who nods, giving him a small smile.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Jeno turns back, sniffling as he wipes away at his cheek, but his face is set. “I’m going to fuck him, then slit his throat-”

“Ouch, not gonna work for me,” Donghyuck grimances. “See, my client wants it to look like an accident.”

Jeno’s eyes are watering, more frustrated tears gathering in his eyes. “Okay, fine. Then, I’ll fuck him, _you_ make it look like an accident however you like, and then-”

“Hmmm, I don’t think that’s going to work for Renjun, though,” Donghyuck reflects. “Renjun needs to frame somebody for murder, and it can’t really work out if it looks like an accident, you know?”

Jeno crosses his arms. “I’m _sorry_ for trying to make it work for all of us here!” He turns to where Renjun is. “Jun, didn’t you have a _master_ plan, or something?”

“Yeah, I did.” Renjun’s looking out the window, looking into the night, and- there it is. Perfect. “And it’s all gonna go accordingly.”

“Why’s that?”

Renjun turns around, smiling. “Get it?”

Donghyuck’s eyes widen, and Jeno gasps, revolver clattering to the floor. “Jun- oh my god, Jun, on your chest-”

Donghyuck reaches inside his breast pocket for his backup, but Renjun waves him off. “It’s fine,” he says coolly. “This is part of it. It’s fine.”

And he taps on it- the area just above his heart. Because glowing there is a little red X mark, wavering ever so slightly. But it’s there. It doesn’t flash in and out, not this time. It waits patiently.

“Renjun,” Donghyuck warns. “This is… part of your plan?”

Renjun grabs Mark’s still unmoving body and hoists it up in front of him, pulling Mark’s back to his chest. “It sure is,” he says cheerfully. “I’ll explain later. Just... Jeno, put Mark's gun down on the ground. Donghyuck, pocket his wallet. And... trust me, okay?”

And now the little red X is over Mark’s heart. Mark’s head lolls back onto Renjun’s shoulder. “I- I don’t get it, Jun, what’s going on?” Jeno asks, scared, but Renjun just keeps Mark in front of him facing towards the window.

“None of us were going to take the last shot tonight,” Renjun says. He jerks his head towards the window. “ _He_ was.”

The window shatters. Someone screams.

🥂

“Yeah, I go by the Cardinal,” the brown haired guy says with a shrug, rifle slung over his shoulder. He has a cool, handsome smile and brown eyes that crinkle when he smiles at them, friendly. “But that’s honestly a bit too stuffy sometimes, and you guys are assassins too, right? So feel free to call me Jaemin.”

Jeno shivers. He’s still only in his sheer robe. “C-Cardinal?” he asks. “Like… _the_ Cardinal? The legendary Cardinal?”

“Oh jeez, I dunno about legendary,” Jaemin laughs. “Thanks though, that’s sweet. Do you mind handing me that scope, though? It’s right by your feet.”

Donghyuck hands over said scope, awestruck. “No, but it’s seriously an honor to have seen you kill right in front of me,” he says. “I respect your work so much. Especially your studies on long-distance sniping-”

Jaemin laughs, scratching the back of his head. For being the most deadly assassin in the country, Jaemin comes off as incredibly down to Earth. It’s refreshing. “Ah, you’re flattering me,” he says, waving his hand. “No, it was an honor to work with you three on this kill. I respect all of the work you all do as well.” He finally clicks his rifle into place and shuts his case, which is in a seemingly harmless guitar shape.

Jeno crosses his arms tighter across his chest. “So- so you killed Mark Lee all the way from here?”

They’re on the topmost floor of a parking garage, several blocks down from the venue. When Renjun said that’s where they were headed next, Jeno refused to believe Mark had been shot from such a distance until he saw it, and now- well. “Sure did,” Jaemin affirms, slinging his guitar case across his back. He looks at Jeno, frowning.

“You’re freezing in that.” He quickly peels off his leather jacket and slings it around Jeno’s shoulders. Jeno stares at the floor, suddenly shy. “Better?”

“Y-yeah, thanks.”

And then he turns to Renjun. This time, Renjun can’t quite tell what he’s thinking as he regards Renjun for a moment. “This… is our first time meeting, yes?”

“That’s right,” Renjun says.

Jaemin nods, studying him. “You’re clever. I was wondering what Mark Lee’s bodyguard would do if he saw a little flash of red. You figured my whole plan just from that, in the beginning of the night, hadn’t you? I couldn’t even scare you off later on.”

“I already expected maybe multiple assassins tonight. Just not… these assassins, in particular. Regardless, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jaemin nods again, thoughtful. “Hmm… wait a moment, let me give you three my card.”

“Card?” Donghyuck echoes.

“Let’s keep in touch. Your highness, the _Prince._ Master of disguise, and brews, of course, _Haechan._ And..." He studies Renjun. "The all-rounded, perfectly balanced Ace _._ It was extraordinary to watch you work tonight... I understand why they call you that." He presses his palms together, that friendly smile back on his face, in a _thank you_ gesture as he does a little bow, ducking his head. "Was really an honor."

"I could say the same for you."

Jaemin smiles at Renjun, eyes crinkling, before turning to face all of them, holding out three rectangular shaped business cards. _Na Jaemin. Professional Assassin. Long-Range Sniper. Cool Guy. 21._ "I was thinking- maybe we could work together sometime," Jaemin says a little breathlessly. "I mean, it's just that tonight was so much. Even if I was only watching you three work from this garage. N-not in the creepy way or anything! You know what I mean. Just- just-" he gives them a nervous, hopeful little smile. "Just... maybe we could link for some jobs in the future...? Because- this was _so_ much fun. And if I never got to do it again... and had to snipe alone for the rest of my life as a solo freelancer... I don't think I can go back from that. So... maybe we could team up! That is-" he's suddenly a little shy, clutching onto the strap of his guitar case and looking away, other arm still outstretched with the cards. "That is- if you guys were all freelancers too..."

“I’m a freelancer,” Donghyuck says firmly, accepting the card. "And I'd be so stoked to work with you."

Renjun barely has time to process Donghyuck's decision before a cold hand is suddenly wrapped around Renjun’s. “I’m a freelancer too,” Jeno’s shaky voice says, reaching out for a business card. Renjun stares at him in wonder. Jeno looks determinedly away, flushing. "I... I'm a freelancer. I make my own decisions."

"Jeno..."

Jeno just stares at the floor, hand tightening where his fingers are interlaced with Renjun's. "You heard me," he mumbles. Renjun beams. He turns back to Jaemin.

"And I've been a freelancer my whole life," He says, finally accepting the card. "I'd be down to work as a team again. I... I'd actually love it."

Jaemin’s face lights up. “Really? You really would? I'd be so honored... seriously, how lucky is it that we're all freelancers? We could become our own team! Or- or something," he adds with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. 

Donghyuck nods vigorously. “Yeah, no, absolutely! We’d love that!”

Jaemin beams. “Perfect! You guys have my number, so… hit me up, anytime, really. I’ll see you around, right?”

Jeno nods, smiling. “Bye, Jaemin. Great job tonight."

"You too," Jaemin says gratefully.

“We could get some coffee soon?” Donghyuck says hopefully.

"Of course! I'll warn you, my order's on the extreme side."

Jaemin's tossed his guitar case into the back of the van they're all lingering by, boot on the footstep, about to climb into his seat before Renjun realizes. “Wait, one more thing, Jaemin."

Jaemin's hanging off the step of the van with one hand, looking up hopefully. "Yeah?"

"When did you take this job? To assassinate Mark Lee?”

“Me...?” Jaemin thinks for a moment, then grins. “Yesterday.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to the prompter for giving such a fun & opened-ended prompt! i had a lot of fun thinking everything up! :D <3


End file.
